


And All The Colors You Can Taste

by hotmess_ex_press



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Blind Character, Eventual Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, kihyun's pink hair, oh yes we're going back to that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 09:20:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14257851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotmess_ex_press/pseuds/hotmess_ex_press
Summary: Soon enough, the air grows colder, and Kihyun should be getting inside. He straightens up, readjusting his sunglasses, and inclines his head towards Hyunwoo."I'm off," he states. "Thank you."As he turns away, Hyunwoo calls his name. He swivels back to face his new acquaintance."Do you come here often?" Hyunwoo asks, and Kihyun is taken aback.He's so surprised he doesn't think before he blurts out, "Every day.""Well then," Kihyun can feel the blood rushing to his neck as Hyunwoo says, "I guess I'll see you tomorrow."





	And All The Colors You Can Taste

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I can explain. Um.  
> I'm stuck on Kihyun's pink hair because when Fighter came out I was maybe 2 days old (that's a lie but sssh) and had never heard of kpop and was still laboring under the delusion I was straight so like...please excuse me for needing to praise it. Through Shownu's eyes. Haha.  
> I hope you like this!

Kihyun can't see, and somehow, that makes people think he can't feel. 

He can still hear, taste, touch, and smell, and every sensation brings a new emotion. But, apparently, being blind somehow melts into being invisible, and Kihyun fades into the background. To the rest of the world, he is a bland kind of grey, with nothing to define him except the fact he can only imagine what the world looks like.

Most people are made of colors, he knows that. They radiate a certain shade, though the color is not truly visible.

Kihyun tries to picture what each section of the rainbow looks like, thinking back to all the poetry he has heard praising them. Red would be love and anger rolled into one, the metallic twang of fresh blood and passion. Like the citrus of the same name, orange would be bright, argumentative, impossible to miss. All he can come up with to describe yellow is a cheery sort of warmth, hopeful and addictive. Green, the color of nature, would be something calm and soothing, easy to pass by but never forgotten. The symbol of sadness, blue, the color of the oceans and sky, might taste like tears and something sweet and sticky that Kihyun could only dream of. And, at the end of a long day, there was mysterious purple, like sand slipping through your fingers, like the inevitable darkness of the afterlife.

People aren't a constant in Kihyun's life. They are like whispers, fascinating and attention-grabbing, but barely there and gone in half a heartbeat.

Kihyun can take care of himself, which he thinks may be part of his loneliness. He gets by one week at a time, using his measly paychecks on rent and cigarettes. (Food is more of a slight afterthought; he knows it isn't healthy, but he's gotten into the habit of not having much of it around.)

His first true friend was Changkyun, who wandered too often to hold that title for long. Anytime he got bored, he would pack his bag and walk on to the next town. Most of their time spent together was silent, both comfortable simply soaking in each others' presence.

Love isn't a constant in Kihyun's life, either, but he thinks he could have been happy with Changkyun. But, after a while, Changkyun got up and carried on, leaving Kihyun behind.

He's outside in the alleyway behind his apartment building, leaning against a graffitied brick wall, when he meets Hyunwoo. The sun is just starting to set, and Kihyun tilts his face, letting the rays seep through his skin.

He hears boots crunch against the pavement, and for a moment he thinks it's Changkyun, but the footsteps fall too heavy and far apart for it to be him. The person stops and rests against the wall next to Kihyun, close enough he can almost feel the other's body heat. They smell soft, like faint coconut and milk chocolate.

A rustle of cloth and the stranger speaks, voice soft and captivating as their scent. "Smokes. Do you want one?"

Kihyun nods. "Yes, please."

A lit cigarette is handed to him, and Kihyun takes it, gratefully taking a long drag. It's Thursday, and money is tight to begin with. The man is quiet, neither pushing against nor encouraging silence, but rather just letting it happen.

After a few minutes, Kihyun speaks, voice slipping into the hush naturally and comfortably, "I'm Kihyun. It's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you, too," he replies, smile peeking through his voice. "My name is Hyunwoo."

 _Hyunwoo._ Kihyun's lips twitch up, testing the name on his tongue. He likes it. It seems kind.

Soon enough, the air grows colder, and Kihyun should be getting inside. He straightens up, readjusting his sunglasses, and inclines his head towards Hyunwoo.

"I'm off," he states. "Thank you."

As he turns away, Hyunwoo calls his name. He swivels back to face his new acquaintance.

"Do you come here often?" Hyunwoo asks, and Kihyun is taken aback.

He's so surprised he doesn't think before he blurts out, "Every day."

"Well then," Kihyun can feel the blood rushing to his neck as Hyunwoo says, "I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

*

And he does. He sees him the next day and the day after that and the day after that, the pair meeting up against the doodled-on wall. They share smokes and quiet conversation, but mostly just unobtrusive companionship.

"Kihyun," Hyunwoo mentions. "You never wear any colors."

Kihyun stiffens. His clothes are mostly black, with some grey and white thrown in. That makes it easier not to look like a mess everyday, something Kihyun finds very useful.

"Yes. Why?"

Hyunwoo hums thoughtfully, and the other can feel him shrug. "You seem like someone who would wear lots of bright things."

Kihyun laughs, raising his cigarette up to his lips, the sound bitter in his mouth. "Come on, Hyunwoo. It's not like I'm already a total freak. Thanks, but let's be real."

Neither say anything after that, which isn't a shock to Kihyun. What _is_ a shock is when Hyunwoo shifts, pauses as if second-guessing himself, then wraps an arm around Kihyun, who starts.

It's been a while since anyone's touched him like this. Hyunwoo's arm is a reassuring weight against his shoulders.

"Sorry," Hyunwoo mutters, half-panicked, moving away as he senses Kihyun's stillness. "I didn't know...I should have asked-"

"No, no," Kihyun reaches to hold Hyunwoo's arm in place. "You're fine."

Hyunwoo huffs out a little breath, which Kihyun feels ruffle his hair. "You sure?"

Kihyun doesn't respond, but scoots closer to the taller one from where they are perched on the wall, resting his back against the other's broad chest. Hyunwoo is warm and solid, and Kihyun can't help but be ashamed at how _good_ that feels. Hyunwoo rests his head against Kihyun's, who can feel each heartbeat and breath of the elder's.

They stay out much longer than usual that night, until the sun is a distant memory and the wind is ruthless against their bare skin. If Hyunwoo lets his hand linger a little longer on Kihyun's as he helps him hop to the sidewalk, neither will ever admit it.

And if Kihyun lays awake all night hoping he wasn't imagining Hyunwoo's heart beating faster than usual, well, he'll never admit that, either.

*

"Let me take you out for coffee, Kihyun."

Kihyun can't help the tiny laugh that bubbles from his throat. "Why would you want that?"

Hyunwoo pokes him, making a pouty _hmph_ sound. "Because I want to, silly. Duh."

Kihyun leans back, throwing a hand over his eyes and kicking his legs. "Please. Am I going deaf, too? Because I thought I heard you say you _wanted_ to spend time with me."

"Aw, Kihyunnie. Don't be so hard on yourself. You're funny and sweet and I like being with you. Now," Hyunwoo jumps off the wall and gently slaps Kihyun's thigh, "Come down. I know this great cafe down on 4th..."

*

Kihyun sips on his black coffee, enjoying the feel of the coffee house. It's warm, and the air is filled with pleasant chatter and the smell of chocolate muffins and coffee beans. Hyunwoo nudges his calf with one foot.

"I think you'd like pink."

"Excuse me?" Kihyun leans back a little, subtle, but not so subtle Hyunwoo doesn't notice. He leans forward, elbows coming to rest against the table with a small _clunk_.

"The color."

"I _know_ that, dumbass. Obviously. Why pink?"

"I dunno. Why not? Pink is a great color."

Kihyun bites his lip, trying to keep in his question, but it slips out anyway, voice soft and unsteady. "What's it like?"

Hyunwoo exhales loudly, and Kihyun can tell he's thinking. "Well," he starts slowly. "There's lots of shades, but I think you'd like light pink best. Bubblegum's that color, and some types of roses. It's a very sweet color. Romantic, even. Kinda innocent, kind of...I dunno...seductive, maybe. But it's very pretty and cheerful. It just seems like _your_ color."

Kihyun hums in acknowledgement, and remembers to store this moment away for later.

 _Pink,_ he thinks. _Crazy._

*

The autumn, with its mugs of hot drinks and cigarettes during the sunset, trails off into winter. The first snowfall, and Hyunwoo asks Kihyun to walk to his friend's art showcase with him. _What's the point?_ Kihyun had asked. _I can't even see the art. And it's cold as fuck out there._

 _So?_ Hyunwoo had responded. _I'm sure you'll like Minhyuk. And a couple others will be there, I want you to meet them. Plus! You'll be with me!_

Kihyun had snapped that the older was a sorry consolation prize, but both knew he didn't mean it, so here he is, walking downtown with Hyunwoo to hang out with some art and Hyunwoo's other friends.

It really is freezing out, and Kihyun's worn-out bomber isn't doing much good against the roaring wind. He pulls his hand out of his pocket to blow on it, gasping in shock when Hyunwoo takes it into his own.

"Hyunwoo," he breathes thoughtlessly, a note of wonder in his tone.

"What? Is this not...okay?"

"Yes-no-but-," Kihyun hunches his shoulders, seeming to fold in on himself, and when he speaks, his words are just a hair away from a whisper. "People will see."

"Well," Hyunwoo counters, "People will see us anyway."

"No," Kihyun growls frustratedly, shaking his head. "They'll _watch_."

"You won't be able to tell."

"But you will."

"And I won't care."

The rest of the walk is quiet, but, Hyunwoo notes with satisfaction, Kihyun is quite reluctant to let go of his hand once they arrive at the gallery.

*

Hyunwoo stops, pulling Kihyun over so they're standing under an awning. The wind is merciless now, tearing through them, burning against their very bones. He can feel Kihyun shiver, and snow whips around them, sticking in their hair.

"Kihyun," he says, "Come home with me."

The shorter one's brow furrows. "Why? You don't have to walk with me. I'll be fine."

Hyunwoo laughs a little, grasping both of Kihyun's hands. "You'll freeze to death. My apartment is closer, _please_ let me take care of you."

Kihyun jerks his arms back. "I can take care of myself, Hyunwoo."

Just then, a violent shudder rages through him. The lights of the city twinkle and reflect in the glossy white slush on the road.

"Please," Hyunwoo pleads, and Kihyun finally nods. Hyunwoo, who has a much heavier coat, tucks him close to his side, arm tight around his waist, feeling every tremor and shake.

(Kihyun is glad he agreed, because Hyunwoo is warm, and Hyunwoo's house is warm, and his bed smells like him. He's glad he agreed, because his cold feet give him the perfect excuse to curl up to Hyunwoo, arms and legs tangled together in a cozy mess.)

(Hyunwoo is glad Kihyun listened to him, because he looks adorable with Hyunwoo's too-big sweatpants and baggy shirt absolutely drowning him, and this is the first time he's seen the shorter without sunglasses on. He isn't ashamed of how _pretty_ he thinks Kihyun is, and he fits too perfectly against Hyunwoo's chest.)

Both sleep better that night than they have in ages.

*

When Kihyun wakes, Hyunwoo is still asleep, limbs and breath heavy. He should be content, lazing in bed with Hyunwoo, but, instead, he feels a burning sort of regret.

Because he wants _this_. He wants to wake up to the scent of chocolate and coconut, he wants to finally be _warm_. He wants to nag and care for Hyunwoo and to be dragged places in the cold in return. He wants Hyunwoo's kind concern and sleepy sighs and random comments. He wants to be happy and well-fed and loved, but he can't have that, and he _knows_ this.

People aren't a constant in his life, and Kihyun's come to accept that. He's come to terms with the fact he lives in a crappy apartment with shitty AC and even worse heating. He's fine with his horrible job and the money that never goes to food or clothes, just cigarettes and the occasional bottle of alcohol. He's finally okay with his black, damned world, and Hyunwoo is _ruining_ that.

But when Hyunwoo wakes with tired sniffles and a slurred, _Good morning, Kihyunnie_ , he decides he'll let himself pretend a little longer.

"What are you thinking about, Kihyun?"

"Nothing, Hyunwoo. It's nothing."

Soon enough, Hyunwoo will leave and Kihyun will go back to his cold, empty life.

It's just a matter of time.

*

"Hello?"

"Hi, Kihyun!" a bright voice shouts through the phone. "It's me, Minhyuk!"

An unintentional smile finds its way onto Kihyun's face. "Hey, Minhyuk. What's up?"

"Well," Minhyuk says, and Kihyun can hear the pout in his voice. "All my friends are busy, even Hyunwoo, and I only talked to you for, like, fifteen minutes at my art show. Can I come pick you up? I'm feeling lonely."

And it's Sunday, and Kihyun's lonely too, so fifteen minutes later he hops into Minhyuk's vanilla-scented car and prays he doesn't get too attached.

*

Minhyuk's house he shares with his boyfriend is small, but sunny. Kihyun can feel sunlight pouting in, and he guesses there must be lots of windows around. Something in Minhyuk makes the other want to tell him everything, but he doesn't, instead voicing only snippets of the wars inside his head.

"I think most artists feel that," Minhyuk says, chair squeaking as he leans back. "They're afraid to need _more_ from others, scared of being too dependent."

Kihyun frowns. "I'm no artist."

"Of course you are," Minhyuk declares empathetically, chair falling back to the ground with a loud clatter. "I can tell. There's just something poetic about you."

Kihyun loves silence, but Minhyuk can't help but chatter. It's a bit exhausting, even though he can tell it's only out of love.

"Kihyun, let me dye your hair!"

He raises an icy eyebrow.

"Aw, it'll be fun! And I worked in a salon after I graduated, so I know what I'm doing. Please, please?"

Kihyun sighs, but agrees, because why not? It's not like he can see it anyway.

"What color?"

"Well," Minhyuk gently tugs at his hair. "Hyunwoo told me he thought you'd like pink. So, pink! How's that sound?"

Kihyun snorts. "Hyunwoo doesn't talk about me."

Minhyuk giggles like the two year old he is and playfully jostles Kihyun's head a bit. "Oh, silly. He talks about you _all_ the time. Like, he actually won't shut up sometimes. He's smitten. He would marry you in two minutes, if you wanted it."

At Kihyun's stillness, Minhyuk tries to backpedal. "Wait, no. Platonically, of course. He-I just-wait. I said nothing."

"Course not," Kihyun hedges after a beat of silence, and Minhyuk giggles again, relieved.

*

Kihyun sits with his usual drink, in their usual table, at their usual cafe, waiting for Hyunwoo to show up. The shop is busy today, and he's glad he got there when he did. The door to the shop jingles loudly, and he hears Hyunwoo's distinct footsteps.

"Oh, Kihyun!" Hyunwoo's tone is surprised, and Kihyun hopes it's a good surprise. "You look great!"

Good surprise, then. Kihyun nervously runs his hand through his newly-bubblegum hair, the strands feeling almost back to normal again. "You like it?"

He thinks he hears Hyunwoo swallow as he moves into the seat across from him. "I love it...why pink?"

Their feet are touching under the table, and Kihyun shrugs, cheeks hot when he says, "You thought I'd like pink, so I thought I'd, I dunno, try it."

He feels dumb for saying it, but that melts away when Hyunwoo leans closer, hesitantly reaching to brush his fingers through the soft pink strands, letting them linger tangled in Kihyun's hair.

"It's just," voice low, unsure. "You trust me enough to do something so...big, based on something I said?"

Kihyun blinks slowly, licking his lips nervously. "I trust you. Completely."

"Really?" Hyunwoo's hand drops a little, so it almost hovers over Kihyun's neck. "Would it be okay if..."

His words fade out, and Kihyun can't help but be disappointed. "If what?"

"Never mind."

Hyunwoo combs through the other's hair again, as if it's natural, an instinct. But for once, Kihyun can't stand the silence.

"If you kissed me?"

Hyunwoo gasps, just a little, but Kihyun goes on.

"Because I'd say yes."

That's what it takes for Hyunwoo to gently tilt the younger's head up, fingers warm and cautious against the skin of Kihyun's jawbone. Sweetly, carefully, and so gently it almost hurts, he presses their lips together, grip in Kihyun's hair tightening almost unnoticeably. He tastes the way he smells, like chocolate-covered coconut, but better, because he's kissing Kihyun, and Kihyun has wanted this for longer than he'd like to admit.

The kiss is short and innocent, but Kihyun loves it, he wants _more_. He thinks that maybe, for once, he can let himself be happy, without guilt.

And, even if Kihyun could see, he might have still missed the look on Hyunwoo's face.

Pure, true love.

It's the look on Kihyun's face, too.

**Author's Note:**

> The ending is a little bit rushed, but, like, *shrugs*walks away*
> 
> Hermit me lives off of comments and kudos! I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
